


The Last Night

by superwholockian4ever



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Highschool AU, given that i accidentally gave them cell phones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-31
Updated: 2015-05-31
Packaged: 2018-04-02 05:11:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4047310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superwholockian4ever/pseuds/superwholockian4ever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Winchester brothers get dropped off in your town for a few months whilst John is on a difficult hunt. Dean quickly becomes your best friend. You can talk about almost anything given that you come from a family of hunters too. Except, there's just one thing you don't even dare tell him. Your parents are abusive. But Dean isn't just an ignorant teenager. He's a hunter after all, and hunters have to be observant.</p>
<p>Warnings: There is depictions of abuse. Hints of non-con underage at the end. Hints of self harm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this whole thing on loose leaf paper in about 16 hours. It is my first reader insert and absolutely the first fiction I have ever finished. I usually post as I go, but with this one the whole story popped in my head and I literally couldn't put down the pen until it was done. Needless to say, my hand was cramped up for a while. I may or may not continue this later, as it sort of has an open ending.  
> Whilst writing this I was listening to "The Last Night" by skillet. The story kind of follows it. I'm not a hundred percent sure if I read a story like this before for this or any other fandom. If it sounds like your story or one you know send me the link so I can confirm and credit for inspiration. (I literally have no life and read all the time so sometimes everything can just get mixed together.)

You didn't have many friends in or out of school. That was, in part, due to your family. Even in terms of hunters, they were considered abusive. Only, no one knew about it. You did your damnedest to keep it from the world, fearing being put into a civi-foster home and never being safe from the monsters. It got harder to hide it though, when another family of hunters blew into town. Even more so, now that the eldest boy was your best friend.

Dean Winchester: bad boy, play boy, rough around the edges. He was a typical angsty teen beneath the surface. He'd seen the bruises and how you always wore that (f/c) zip up sweater and was skeptical of your excuses. Mainly he kept his theories to himself, though, because he enjoyed having another hunter his age to relate to. He'd never tell anyone, but he was afraid that if he did tell you what he thought of them, you'd stop talking to him.

Your parents used you as a scapegoat for everything. They got into hunting after a demon killed your baby brother. He was only two. The police had said it was a likely a rabid animal that killed him, but you and your parents had seen the thing. Since then, they verbally abused you, beat you, and used you as bait for monsters, if it was the easiest or only option. Of course, they taught you how to handle yourself too. It seemed to justify things in their minds. Obviously, you only told Dean they blamed you for your brother's death.

When your family took care of a couple of werewolves that thought they'd be able to terrorize the town on Monday. The next day while sitting on a bench in the schools court yard, you retold the tale to Dean. How it was all your fault that one had gotten away. How you'd let down your parents.

"If I hadn't have gotten my mother distracted, he wouldn't have gotten away..." you bemoaned.

"(F/n) you can't blame yourself. Even if you were the best hunter in the world, you would have had trouble with two of them," Dean tried to sooth your pride as he eyed the new bruises on your temple and collar bone.  
"Get those on your hunt too?" he asked skeptically.

"Uh...yeah," you couldn't even look him in the eye when you answered.

Dean knew you were lying. He may have only been your friend for a six weeks but he knew you better than anyone. It had only taken a few days to learn your tells. So he always knew when you were lying. He never called you on it, though. Instead, figuring you'd tell him when you were ready.

"so, uh," you changed the subject, "got any plans for tonight?"

He smirked taking the hint, "Oh yeah. Got a date with Jenny Simmons, and it's gonna be HOT!"

You laugh, "oh, I'm sure it will be," you agree. "All dates are hot dates for Dean Winchester." You tease.

He nudges you playfully with his shoulder, "What about you, (f/n)? Any plans?"

You grin with fake enthusiasm, "Well, I'VE got a hot date with the history paper due next Wednesday. So put THAT in your pipe and smoke it."

"God, (f/n), you're such a nerd!" Dean laughs, "Live a little!"

You smile ruefully, "Would that I could, Dean. Unfortunately, the parents like me to finish my work early. That way I can't blame hunting for late or missed assignments."

"That's harsh." he sympathized.

"Yep." you confirmed, popping the p.

"Well, maybe we could hang out. Ya know, outside of school. Sometime." he sounded a little hesitant as if maybe you wouldn't want to.

You smiled, "I'd like that. I'm just not entirely sure if my parents would allow it."

"Can't you, I don't know, tell them you have to study? Finals ARE comin' up. Or tell them you have to stay after for extra credit or somethin'. Then we could go to the mall, or the arcade, or just hang out at my motel room."

You grin at him, "Do you have any idea how skeevy that sounds?"

Seeing you grin he shoves you a little. "Shut up. Just think about it."

When Sam starts to make his way over to you guys Dean stands and smiles at you once more before he leaves.

The next day, you made your excuses, explaining to your parents you could study better at the library than at the diner they owned or at home. The library didn't have any distractions, you'd said, it wasn't loud like the diner could be, and there wasn't the temptation of TV or random knick knacks. Thankfully they allowed it with very little fighting. Only stating what a disappointment you were, having such a weak mind.

Every day for the rest of that week you managed to spend time with him and Sam. You'd met Sam before thinking him cute, but you'd really gotten to know him this week and he became like a little brother to you. As painful as you thought that might be, it was actually a nice feeling. So the first day you went to the mall and just walked around talking; about anything and everything. You stopped at the food court, eating with them before you had to return home.

The second day you went to the arcade and spent forty dollars of your life savings so they didn't have to waste their own money. It caused a bit of an argument between you and Dean. However, he quickly changed his mind when you stated you'd throw the money in the trash if he didn't let you pay for the tokens.

The next day you went to the park where you and Sam played tag in the sprinklers for while. It had been a particularly warm day. You looked ridiculous in your sopping wet sweater. Sam and Dean even told you so while laughing. They tried to convince you to take it off, stating that with it and your (h/l) (h/c) hair, it made you look like a drowned rat. you just told them it was your favorite and if you took it off you might lose it.

Then it was Saturday and you couldn't make the "I want to stay after" excuse, but the boys already knew that you would have to wait until Monday afternoon to spend time together once again. You felt bad because they'd been here nearly two months already and you know they'd have to leave soon. They'd become something like family to you in such a short time and you wanted to spend as much time with them as possible. 

You fell out of your musings when the phone started ringing. Walking over you pick it up.

"(L/n) residence, (f/n) speaking. Who would you like to speak with?" you greeted into the phone.

"So your nerdiness extends past school work, huh, (F/n)?" a familiar voice teased.

"What do you want, Dean?" your smile seeped into your tone.

"Just got used to ya bein' around, ya know? Sammy too. and we're bored." he explained.

"Well, what do you want ME to do about it?" you huffed halfheartedly. The truth was you were happy he called.

"Entertain us!" he stated with a happy expectant tone. "Can't you sneak out? You said your parents work their diner from nine to six - thirty on weekends. I figure that'll give us a few hours to kill."

"You, Dean Winchester, are a bad influence...Fine. You're just lucky they didn't randomly decide to take the day off! They tend to do that sometimes. I'll meet you at the park. We can feed the ducks or something."

"Sounds good. Sammy'll like that. We'll Figure out what we're REALLY going to do after." he teases

"Bye, you dork," you retaliate before hanging up with a smile.

You don't even bother changing out of your signature (f/c) zip up and comfiest jeans. You're comfortable enough around them that you don't feel you need to dress "nicely." So you grab a bit of stale bread and slip on your converse before heading out the door to meet them.

You get there before them and sit on the bench by the pond. You slip into a daydreaming state as you wait for them.

You had a major crush on Dean. You could even say you were in love with the guy. But he was WAY out of your league and you knew it. He went on dates with popular girls, like girls from the cheer squad. You were the school loner and most people ignored you, even after you befriended Dean. You had a few problems with bullying, but really what kid didn't? Besides, you took solace in the fact that all these kids would piss themselves if they knew what was really out there lurking out there in the dark. 

[A/N: Okay so I know this is a weird space to change the point of view but I did it anyway. I just do what the muses in my head tell me to!]

(Dean's POV)

When we got the the park I saw her sitting on a bench staring off into space. Sam Ran over to her and knocked her over with a hug. I noticed her wince and narrowed my eyes. Sure enough, as I got closer, there were new bruises on her (s/c) neck. She either forgot they were there or she didn't think I'd noticed. I notice everything though. I notice the way her (h/c) hair shone in the sunlight, the way her (e/c) eyes glowed with happiness when she laughed or how dull they seemed when she was sad. I noticed every new bruise she got and how even in eighty degree weather she wore that (f/c) sweater. I'd never seen her without it.

I had my suspicions. I mean I know parents are usually protective of their children, especially the youngest ones. So when (f/n) told me how her family got into hunting and how they seemed to blame her for every little thing, it was easy to figure out they probably blamed her for the kids death. Of course I only become more sure of it with every story she told me of their hunts. Every mistake was shoved onto her shoulders. It had been happening so long, even she blamed herself. but I had no proof, and because of that I felt helpless. It wasn't just that she was someone that needed my help. Hell, it wasn't even because she'd become my best friend or how close she and Sammy had gotten. Somehow, Somewhere down along the line, I'd fallen in love with her. She was just so strong and beautiful in so many ways.

Smirking I walked over to where Sam and (f/n) were breaking up bread and tossing it into the water to the ducks and nudged her, "hey princess, Thanks for coming."

"Not a problem, hotshot." she smiled at me as she handed at me a piece of bread.

I mumbled out a thanks and we all fed the ducks. (f/n) seemed to know Sammy and me were sorta new to it, but she never said anything. She just smiled and giggled occasionally. 

"After this, me and Sam want you to come back with us to watch some TV." I said finally.

"Um, okay. But only for a while, I have to get home before my parents." She agreed without much hesitation.

When we ran out of bread we headed back to the motel.


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You go back to the motel with the boys when Sam suddenly gets all sage-like. Shit hits the fan.
> 
> Major abuse. Suicidal thoughts. Mentions of cutting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I started writing this story I figured it'd be a one shot and be maybe 8 pages written on loose leaf. Well apparently I write really big because the whole thing turned out to be nearly 29 pages long. Didn't see that coming. Typing it is really tedious too, but hopefully I can get'er done and out soon.
> 
> So, if you see these guys ' ' inside these guys " " it's a person who is currently speaking quoting someone else, but if you see these guys ' ' by themselves it's inner monologue.

(your POV)

You'd been lounging on one of the beds with Dean sitting next to you. Sam was laying out on the other one while watching the TV screen intently. You and Dean gave Sam free reign over the TV, both content to sit by one another, closely walking the line between strictly platonic friends and something else. Every know and then your arm would bump his side, or his hand would brush up against yours.

After a while, during a commercial, Sam sat up and looked at you curiously. 

"Hey, (f/n)?"

"yeah Sam?"

"Why don't you call your parents 'mom' and 'dad?'" he asked you puzzled.

"What?" You were shocked. Damn was he ever observant. You'd never even thought about it.

"You always say 'my parents' or 'the parents.' Sometimes you say 'my mother and father,' but it's never 'mom and dad.' Why is that?" he looked genuinely curious.

"I don't really know," You lied, "I didn't even realize I did that." Out of the corner of your eye you could see Dean studying you. 'Oh great, now he's probably trying to decide if I'm telling the truth,' you thought to yourself.

"Now that I think about it," Sam continued, "that's not the only weird thing. You wear that sweater everyday too. Even today. Aren't you hot, (f/n)?"

"Um, not really. I have naturally low body temperature." another lie. And now your knee was bouncing with your anxiousness. You'd never been called out on these things. You'd never even experienced this type of questioning.

"You seem to be really clumsy too, (f/n). You always have so many bruises. Why do your parents let you go on hunts?" Sam's face seemed to hold that look of "I know you're lying, so come clean already."

Immediately following the last question Dean let out an angry warning shout of "SAM!"

But before he could reprimand his brother you stood, "I should go. My parents will be home soon." Without saying anymore you left quickly.

(Dean's POV)

She bolted before I could stop her. i turned to my brother and shouted, "What the hell, Sam! What'd ya do that for?!"

"I'm not stupid Dean, and I know you're not either. I know what all those things mean. They teach us that in school." he stated as if it was obvious.

I was seething, "Yeah? Well, do they teach you, you gotta have proof before you can do anything about it?!"

"The proof is all over her, Dean. She looks like one giant bruise."

"Those things only prove she's being hurt! Not that her parents are the ones doing it."

Sam looked somewhere between shocked and frustrated, "We can't just leave her alone! She could end up dead." 

"She's a hunter, Sammy, she could end up dead anyway." I tried to minimize it for him. I guess letting him get close to (f/n) wasn't such a good idea.

"Not like this, Dean. This isn't the same." Sam was clearly hoping I'd do something. Though what he wanted me to do exactly wasn't clear.

"I know. But like it or not, her parents are human. And until, (f/n) starts telling the truth about whats going on, we can't do anything." I explained gently.

"Man...This is bullshit!" he shouted again.

"I'm with ya Sammy, but that's the law, and when it comes to human problems, generally we follow it."

Sam didn't say anything more. He just sat there stewing. I could honestly say I wanted to throw a fit too. (F/n) made me feel so many different things. I wish I could just hold her and keep her safe with me. If it was up to me she would never spend another day with those people.

(Your POV)

It was almost five when you bolted from the Winchester's motel room. You still had a while until your parents got home. When you took in cleaning, closing up, and distance you could easily get home at 6:30 and still have time to put in the casserole your mom had left in the fridge with a note to cook it at 375 for a half hour. You walked aimlessly around town just thinking about things.

Were you really so transparent that even Sammy could see through you to the truth? Or was that kid a super genius and you didn't even know it? If Sam knew than Dean DEFINITELY knew. Why hadn't he said anything then? Or were they just suspecting and Sam was just trying to get you to admit everything. You wished you could tell them. You desperately wished they could help somehow, but you'd rather take all the abuse then become defenseless against werewolves and ghosts and everything else out there. There was no turning back once you knew. You didn't understand how some people could forget or pretend these things weren't real once they'd seen them.

You shook yourself out of your thoughts and looked at the clock tower in the square you paled. It was 6:20 and it would take at least 15 minutes to get home from where you were. If you couldn't get home and have the casserole ready in time, your parents would be angry. You started running.

You got home, only to see the car in the driveway. 'Oh shit.' you thought to yourself. You swallowed and hurried into the house, hoping to come up with a good excuse to minimize their wrath.

As it turned out you didn't get a chance to explain, because as soon as you were two steps into the doorway a baseball bat connected with your abdomen, knocking the wind out of you.

"Hi honey," your father spit out as your mother pulled you in by the hair. You cry out in pain and your father slammed the door behind you. 

"We got home an hour ago," your mother hissed, "imagine our surprise when the casserole wasn't even put in the oven like we asked. And that you weren't even here."

Your eyes found the green glow of the digital clock on the cable box. Sure enough it was eight o' five. How had you gotten home so late?

Your father backhanded you across the face, knocking you to the floor and yelled, "We work our ASSES off to keep a roof over your head, keep you fed, and clothed!" He then kicked you in the side repeatedly until you turned and curled into a ball. Even then, he kept kicking, your back getting the brunt of it now. The whole time you were screaming in pain. His steel toed boot tore at the fabric of your sweater."Then we go out here and work even harder fighting monsters to keep you safe, you ungrateful little bitch!" he shouted enraged. 

Your mother grabbed your hair again, yanking your head back up and pulling it to an angle that exposed your throat. You were scared that this might be it; that they were going to slit you throat and dispose of your body. Instead, she only whisper yelled into your ear, "We had to hear from Mr. Nelson that you'd been hanging around that trash that blew in a few weeks ago. Then Mrs. Wilkes from the Ice cream parlor says you've been spending money on them!" She slaps you across the face only for you to fall to the floor again, the taste of blood in your mouth.

"We always knew you were a lot of things, (f/n), but we never pegged you for a whore." he spits and this time his foot connects with your tailbone, ripping an almost inhuman scream from you as you feel pain like lightning surge through your whole body.

"It should have been you that night!" your mother screams nearly hysterical, "Not Bradley, You good for nothing slut!"

Finally the beating stopped and your father picked you up by the collar of your shirts, he opened a door and threw you down the flight of steps into the basement. The door closed and locked behind you. You cried until your world went dead and for the next 21 hours you faded in and out of consciousness.

It was daytime again when you finally regained your senses. You whole body ached and your signature (f/c) sweater has holes in it. So, when you stand up you take it off. It had been a sort of security blanket. You'd used it to hide the bruises from your parents, but it also hid the white scars that covered your arms from your wrists to your elbows. You'd taken up cutting a few years back and although you didn't cut your arms anymore you didn't stop entirely. Well, at least you hadn't until the Winchesters became your friends. They brought a little happiness into your life. Especially Dean. When you were with him, you didn't even think about cutting. 

Thinking of Dean brought you to wonder what day it was. 'It's at least Sunday afternoon. If they're not gone yet, they will be soon. I need to say goodbye.' you thought sadly. 'When they're gone, I'll have no one. I'll be more alone that I am now. I don't want to live like this anymore! I don't want to feel like this! I know I'm useless and worthless.' You came to a decision and walked up the steps.

"I'll tell him goodbye and then I'll do it." you said firmly out loud trying to sooth yourself, "I'll just end it all. It will be good...I'll be peaceful, finally. And then mom and dad won't have to deal with me anymore."

You reached the door at the top of the steps and turned the knob. It shocked you to find it wasn't locked. You weren't sure if that was a good thing or not. You hoped it meant your parents had cooled down a little. Cautiously you opened the door and noticed the house was silent.

"Must be out with friends," you concluded, again out loud.

You still wore your (r/c) tank top and jeans from Saturday. As you entered the powder room on the first floor you checked your general appearance in the mirror.

"Well, it's not TOO bad." You said to your reflection taking not of your split lip and the bruise that covered one cheek. There was an abrasion just on the line of your scalp where you assume your mother's nail caught the skin there. Cleaning off any dry blood you came across you try to put some order to your (h/l) (h/c) hair. Taking a peak at your torso you wince before pulling your shirt back in place and heading out.

Because of all the damage you're parents had done it took you a little more than 3 hours to get from your basement to the Winchesters motel room. Standing outside the door you could hear the sounds of the television, so you knocked a little louder than you would have liked to be heard. It was then, you became aware that your eyes were watering. The door opened before you could blink them away. And there was Dean, looking for all the world shocked to his very soul as he croaked out your name.

"I'm sorry." you apologized for your appearance and for intruding, "I know you'll be leaving soon. I wanted to say goodbye." Now tears were falling from your eyes and you give humorless laugh as you wipe them away. "God, I'm so pathetic. I didn't want you to see me cry, but here I am."

Dean pulled you into a tight hug and instantly loosened his hold when you cried out, but he didn't let go.

"Are you alright, (f/n)? You look like someone beat the shit outta you." Dean invited you to come clean.

"Yeah, well," you snort out, "I'm fine though."

"(f/n)," his voice holds a warning tone.

"Really Dean," you pull away enough to look at him, "I'm fine."

He carefully grabs your wrist and pulls it into view, inspecting it then looking at you. You had forgotten you left the ruined sweated at home. 

"Really? 'cause these say otherwise. I suspected the abuse, but these..." he looked close to tears, "Did you do these?"

He looked you in the eye and you didn't even have to answer. The first of his tears fell as he held you close.

"God, (f/n), I'm sorry."

"It's okay. You responded hugging him back.

He tensed and then said firmly, "It's Not okay."

"It's not your fault, Dean. You've helped me more than anyone." you soothed him. "And it really IS okay, because I've decided I'm done feeling like this."

He frowns at you, "you plannin' on runnnin' away?" he asks.

"Something like that." you respond flatly.

His arms are somehow still holding onto you when he demands, "You're staying."

"Dean-" you start but he cuts you off.

"No! You're staying with us. Look at me, (f/n). I'm not leaving you here alone! You're going to do something stupid, I can see it in your eyes. So, I'm going to keep you safe." 

"Do you REALLY think you dad would just be okay with taking me with you? Dean...c'mon, let's be realistic." you try to make him see reason.

"I'll make him take you! You're a hunter, You're great with Sammy! You'd be an asset!" He was grasping at straws now.

"I'll be another mouth to feed. Another person he's got to watch out for when you go hunting." you countered.

"So you won't hunt. You can hold down the fort and do book keeping. And you have that stash of money you told me about." he protested

"And when the money runs out? Besides I'm still a liability if I'm sitting in motel rooms. I'd be vulnerable alone and any monster remotely good at tracking will know it."

"At least stay until we ask him. Even if he says 'no' stay until he shows up. It's late, Sammy's sleeping. He'll wanna see you before we go." Dean begged you.

You give in and he takes your hand as he ushers you into the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I accidentally channeled adult! Sam and Dean. But the Idea of a bitch face on little Sam makes me laugh.


	3. Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean tries to convince John to take you with them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been breaking this up because I wanted to take breaks from typing. I have the story all written out and finished on loose leaf paper, so I don't anticipate this taking very long to get out there.
> 
> There are two points in which I put it in John's point of view. Now I will admit, it seems like a weird move to make and i may not be as familiar with his character as I should be when I did this.So he's a little OoC BUT like I said, I write what the tiny people in my brain tell me to. And I'm familiar enough with parental feelings to know, even if you are as removed from you own kids as John may have been, when you come across someone in the place I've put you in the story (I'm really sorry about that, my creative side is shrouded in darkness), you can't just let it go and move on.

(Your POV)

After Dean let you into the room, he lead you to the bathroom to look over your injuries. It wasn't the way you imagined him seeing you in your underthings for the first time when you fantasized about him. Regardless, you couldn't keep from blushing as his fingers brushed you bruised skin. That is, until you saw the pain in his eyes as he took stock of all the bruises and rug burn. He counted four broken ribs and when you told him about your tailbone he blushed stating it was probably fractured.

He came to my forearms again. He looked at me and asked, "Do your parents know about these?"

I avoided looking him in the eyes out of shame as I whispered, "They said it was just something I'll grow out of. Like dying my hair."

When he finished he looked a little stern, "Okay, I want you to take a shower. When you're done I'll have a t-shirt and some sweat pants for you to put on. Then I'll wrap your ribs."

You smirked and tried to lighten the mood. "You wouldn't be trying to get me naked, would ya, Dean?"

He gave a small smile, "Just take a shower, ya dork."

You sighed heavily before turning on the tap and stripping down fully. When the water was warm you got in and just relaxed under the spray of the water. You kept you mind blank, humming softly.

(Dean's POV)

I left (f/n) in the bathroom, only to walk out and find Sam sitting up in bed.

"What happened?" he questioned me.

"It's bad Sammy. She's finally admitting she needs help though," I answered, "I'm gonna call dad. See if he'll take her with us."

"Do ya think he will?" Sam was a little hopeful.

"God, I hope so." I admitted.

I walked just outside the door and kept it open with my foot, as I called my dad. It rang twice before he picked up.

"Dad?" I asked when I heard his voice. I must have sounded off because immediately started the questions.

"Is Sammy okay? Where is he? What's going on, Dean?"

"Yeah! Dad, Sam's fine! He's in bed sleeping." I answered as fast as possible.

"Why are you calling me, Dean?" he sounded almost annoyed.

I swallowed, "Do you remember that girl I told ya about?"

"The one with the hunter family. Yeah. What about them?" he asked.

I swallowed again, this time to keep from crying, "They beat her, dad."

"Dean-"

I cut him off before he could scold me, "Every day. They blame her for everything!"

"Dean-" he tried again but I plowed on.

"They keep her prisoner in her own house!"

"DEAN!" he yelled.

When I stopped, he went on, "You can't go getting into these people's business, Dean."

"But dad!" I tried to explain further but he just cut me off.

"These aren't monsters, Dean! They're people. There's rules we have to follow here, and we just can't afford to get involved. You can't get attached, Dean. I'm sorry." he didn't sound sorry enough to me.

Before he could hang up, I tried again, "They broke her ribs. She's got a fractured tail bone, a split lip, and she's more bruise than anything else. Dad! She's cutting herself, and they know about it! And they don't care! They told her it was just a phase, like she's rebelling against them or something. They may be human, but they're still monsters. I can't just leave her here to die."

He was silent for a long time before he sighed in resignation, "I'm almost there. I'll look her over before I decide anything." then he used his firm voice again, "If I decide she stays here, though, that's the end of it, Dean!"

"Yes, sir." I answered only slightly worried.

And he hung up without another word.

(John's POV)

It was another hour before I got back to the motel room. I walked in to see Dean and the girl, (f/n) he said her name was, sitting on the sofa. They were close, but not exactly snuggling, while they watched TV quietly. Sammy was sound asleep on one of the beds. I walked straight over to the girl. I looked her over taking note of the bruises that seemed to cover her from head to toe. The obviously new damage to her face in addition to the pillow she sat on, even though the sofa looked soft, let me know what dean had already told me over the phone. I saw her look at me and it was clear I intimidated her. Good. That will make it easier to get the truth. I glanced at my son to see he was nervous of my verdict. Then I carefully took hold of both of her arms.

I looked her in the eye and asked, "These Self inflicted?"

"Most of them," She answered without hesitating. In my peripheral Dean flinched.

"And the others?" I inquired, watching her carefully.

"We needed bait," she said simply. Like it wasn't a big deal. Like all parents used their kids as bait.

This was new information, but so far she had been truthful, showing none of the signs a person who is lying would show.

I kept myself calm as I continued my questioning. "Bait for what?"

She looked almost angry when she answered, "Pedophile vampire." 

My blood ran cold. Dean was white as a sheet. I released her arms thinking. She was about Dean's age. So around sixteen. Most of the hunters I knew used the term "pedophile" in conjuncture with monsters only when they preyed on children 12 years old and younger. This girl had two vertical scars on each forearm that were larger than the rest; about 4 inches in length.

That a parent could do this to their own child, let alone two...Something felt off and I had to wonder.

I looked to Dean, "Address."

"Um, (house #) (street name)." Dean responded, questions in his eyes.

I turned around and left.

(Your POV)

As Mr. Winchester left, you could feel the rage fizzle in the air. Dean looked at you then, and you sat as still as humanly possible. He'd never been truly mad around you before and you didn't know what to expect right now.

"They used you as bait?" he was somewhere between enraged and terrified.

"Sometimes." You whispered.

It was clear he wanted to hurt something or someone. Instead of shouting though, he pulled you into his chest.

"I swear to you, (f/n), I won't EVER let anyone hurt you again. You don't have to be alone anymore. I'm always gonna be here for you."

Tears started falling down your face, "Thank you."

Before you can say more Dean's lips find yours in a gentle caress.

"You know I love you, right?" He said it like it wasn't anything. You knew, though, that it took a lot for him to say that.

You're shocked at the admission anyway, and ask him to confirm it, "Really? You'er not just saying that to make me happy, are you?"

"Of course not. You're important to me." he states before kissing you again, careful of your split lip.

(John's POV)

I pulled up to the house, got out of the car, stormed up to the front door, and pounded on it relentlessly. Had the light's been out, they would have turned on immediately for all the noise I was making. When the (l/n)'s finally answered the door I splashed them with holy water before pushing my way in.

"What the hell?!" (father's name) yelled.

"Who are you?!" (mother's name) demanded.

When they didn't react to the initial splash of holy water I didn't hesitate. I attacked incessantly. They may have been hunters, but they stuck to one spot. Which meant they didn't get as much of a work out as I did. It took only minutes for me to subdue them. I tied them to a couple dining room chairs and proceeded to give them the works: more holy water, salt, silver blade, checking for vampire teeth. Finally, after running out of tests and listening to their yells of "We're Human, we swear!" I had to admit they were in fact human.

I clenched my jaw tight, as I leaned heavily into my fists on the dining table. "You know, I wanted desperate for you to be anything but human. That way, I could tell that poor girl it wasn't her parents that hurt her," I admitted before looking up. "I just don't understand how anyone could subject their CHILD to that. Using her as BAIT?...All I want to know at this point is, how old was she?"

"Poor girl?" (mother's name) hissed, "That little heathen was only SIX when she killed my baby! She's no child of mine!" she screeched out.

I looked up at her, anger radiating in my eyes, "SHE WAS A CHILD FOR GOD'S SAKE! You know, I read your file, The monster that killed your little boy looks like the work of a lamia. That's a sub-category of demon. They appear as a young woman during the day, but transform into a serpentine creature at night. They only eat children younger than five. Your son's death was a horrific tragedy, but it wasn't (f/n)'s fault." I noticed (father's name) look horrified as if he just remembered something unthinkable.

"Now, I'll ask once again, HOW OLD WAS SHE?" I shouted and stabbed my silver blade into their dining table.

"When?!" (mothers name) shouted out obviously fearful I was going to kill them.

"When you used her like chum in the water for a pedophile vampire!" I yelled in her face and she stated crying.

"Ten." (father's name) volunteered quietly, "She was ten."

If it was at all possible to be further horrified than before, I was then. "My GOD! Have you no souls?! She could have been killed! She could have been turned! Or Worse, she could have been raped!"

When there was no answering voice, protest, or movement I felt sick. "She was raped." Dean was right these people were monsters.

"We needed to find their nest! We needed to find the other girls! It was for the greater good and she was still alive when we eradicated them and got to her!" 

Their excuses fell on deaf ears as I made my way to the second floor. Entering what was clearly (f/n)'s room, the faded pink walls were the biggest clue. I packed a duffle bag with some of her clothes. I grabbed the cash out of her underwear drawer and her diary from her nightstand. Then I made my way to the bathroom and grabbed the toothbrush, toothpaste and hair brush from the counter top. Then looking through the medicine cabinet I grabbed the box of feminine hygiene products as well as the pain killers. 

I rummages around the house until i found their arsenal and took a couple of guns, a couple of blades, and several boxes of silver bullet rounds. They could always replace them and honestly, they were lucky I wasn't planning on killing them.

I reentered the dining room and looked at the (l/n)'s.

"Alright, here's what's going to happen. I'm taking (f/n). She deserves to live free from the torture of having monsters for parents. And I use that term lightly." I growled out. "You're going to fake her death. I don't care how, but you make sure there are no nationwide manhunts or pleas for her safe return. You're not going to come after us. You're not going to hire or manipulate anyone to come after us either. You will forget about her and you will move on with your lives. In return, I'm not going to turn you into CPS and I'm not going to kill you. I'll even untie you before I leave.  
"But let me make myself absolutely clear. If I ever, and I do mean EVER, get wind of you breaking any of these terms or abusing any other child in any way I WILL be back. And you WILL be sorry. Do. You. Understand?"

(Father's name) and (mother's name) were so scared it was all they could do to nod in agreement. 

"Good." Having no doubt they'd be too afraid to do anything other than just let me walk out of there, I untied them and left with the bags.

(Your POV)

When Mr. Winchester came back, you and Dean were cuddling on the couch. Mr. Winchester tossed you your (f/c) duffle bag.

"We leave at o six hundred. Get some sleep." he stated to no one in particular.

Then he laid down on the bed that Sam wasn't occupying. You assumed it was because you and Dean seemed cozy on the couch, but you couldn't be sure.

It was only a moment later when he added, "Dean."

"Yes, sir?" Dean responded.

"She's your responsibility." He finished.

"Yes, sir." Dean answered and snuggled into your neck with a smile.

The lights went out and the TV got turned off and we all fell asleep.

It was 5:50 am when you woke to Sam's voice.

"Is she really coming with us, dad?" he asked without too much hope in his voice.

Mr. Winchester looked down at him, "Do you want her to?"

"Yeah." Sam said smiling.

Mr. Winchester smiled at his son but said nothing. 

A few minutes later, just as e stepped out of the room, you walked over to him. "Mr. Winchester?" I called to him.

He seemed a little shocked, if not annoyed. Either way he answered, "Yes, (f/n)?"

You held out my wad of cash to him. "It's not much. Only about three thousand, but I'd like for you to have it."

He looked at me for a moment before taking it and loading up the car.

Once you were all piled in, Sam in the front for once due to Dean wanting to sit with you in the back, and before the car was started Mr. Winchester turned slightly in the drivers seat and handed you back about a hundred dollars. I froze for a moment staring at him.

"You're going to need some money eventually for your -" he coughed avoiding the end of the sentence. 

You blushed in embarrassment, "Thanks..." you answered.

And with that he started up the car. Rock music played as you pulled out of the parking lot. Already on the trail of the next monster. Your new life with the Winchesters just beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those trying to work out the time frame. You got home at 8 pm you parents beat on you and yelled at you for about an hour. The next day you wake up at 6 pm. It takes you an hour to make yourself presentable and two to walk to the motel. that would make it 9 pm when you got there and 10 when John arrives.

**Author's Note:**

> I've noticed after typing this I switch from present tense to past tense a lot. It's a bad move on a writers end, but I just can't bring myself to care or change it at this point. I'm still very happy with the story overall. Maybe when I get a bit of down time I'll fix it.  
> This is just the first part. I needed to take a break from typing. Believe it or not this is 8 pages on my loose leaf paper. I had notes in the margins and I edited as I typed this out. I hope you enjoy it. I'll post more later.


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